Did It Hurt When You Fell From Heaven?
by bri617
Summary: Or: Ten times Fratboy!Oliver tries cheesy pick-up lines on Goth!Felicity, but she's not having any of it. But then, one time he uses a good one. Plus, a few bonus drabbles because this was so much fun!


**⁂ 1 ⁂**

The first time it happens, he's supposed to meet his sister who's visiting from out of town at his favorite diner, but she's running late, so he ends up waiting for her in his booth. That's when he sees _her_.

She's a waitress, judging by the apron she's wearing, efficiently maneuvering her way around her patrons. It's her jet black hair and purple streaks that make her stand out from the others.

She's not his usual type. Actually, she couldn't be farther from his usual type. Then again, Thea would cheekily point out that his standards for bed partners aren't all that high and that he'd bed about anything that has a vagina.

Not _completely_ untrue.

Has he ever slept with a goth, though? He's not sure. Maybe this one can refresh his memory.

When she's busy at the cash register, he quickly leaves his booth, sidling up to her, casually leaning against the counter.

Go big or go home, right?

"Do you believe in love at first sight or should I walk by again?" he asks with a charming grin.

Her fingers falter against the antique-looking register —seriously, have they not realized that it's the 21st century?— and she turns to him oh so slowly.

Her eyes are a striking blue, even with the heavy black make-up around them they shine like two brilliant stars. Her gaze turns from surprised to completely annoyed, those beautiful blue eyes shooting daggers with big fat 'are you for real?' signs mounted on them in his direction, and he almost takes a cautious step back.

Her tongue darts out to run over her darkly painted lips. "How about you walk by again, but this time, you don't stop?!" she retorts with quite a bit of an edge to her voice, before she turns her attention back to the register.

Did she just brush him off? Did this goth nobody seriously just brush off Oliver Queen's attention? She should be fucking thankful that he even considered fucking her.

He's about to tell her just that when she turns around and walks away.

"Ollie, there you are. Sorry I'm late, the flight got delayed," Thea greets him from behind. "Damn, what crawled up your ass?"

A snarky goth chick, that's what.

 **⁂ 2 ⁂**

The second time it happens is two weeks later when he comes into the diner a teeny, tiny bit hammered. He was just on his way home from some party when he spotted the familiar sign of his favorite diner. Deciding he could _really_ use a cup of coffee and one of their delicious pies to sober up a little bit before heading home, he stumbles into the almost empty place.

He spots her immediately. She's sitting in a booth all by herself, books and notepads scattered across the table while she furiously types on a laptop.

He runs a hand through his disheveled hair and makes his way over to her, only bumping into three chairs on the way.

She looks up when he leans heavily against her table.

"Is this seat empty?" he asks, waggling his eyebrows suggestively at her.

She just rolls her eyes and sighs heavily, already turning her attention back to her screen. "Yes, and mine will be, too, if you sit down."

Again?

Really? Sheesh, tonight he doesn't even really want to sleep with her. Jessica… Jenny… Jenna… whatever, some chick with a 'J' already took good care of him at the party.

 **⁂ 3 ⁂**

By the third time, a few days after his drunken night, it almost feels like part of their routine. This time, she's back in her apron, diligently skipping from one table to the next with a pot of coffee, checking on her patrons.

He makes sure to sit in her section, throwing a devilish grin her way when she approaches with barely contained exasperation on her face. Let's see what she's got for him this time.

"Coffee?" she asks, holding up the pot in her hand, already placing a mug on the table for her to fill. As she leans over, he spots her name tag: Felicity. What an ironically joyous name for a goth girl.

"Yes, please, Felicity," he smiles widely. "I'm Oliver, by the way."

Her lips stretch into a forced smile. "Can I get you anything else, Oliver?"

"A slice of the apple pie with some vanilla ice cream on top, please."

She nods and scurries away, taking her sweet time before she returns with his order. "There you go."

"Thank you." Show time! "You know, Felicity, you make all the other girls here look bad."

She freezes for a second, her eyes going from almost pleasant to ice cold. "And you make all the other guys in here look damn good," she snarks back before stalking off, leaving a happily grinning Oliver behind. Damn, she's good.

 **⁂ 4 ⁂**

A week or so later, a deep frown is etched into her features all the way over to his table and he's pretty sure that, for once, it has nothing to do with him. She just seems to be in one of those moods. Without even realizing what's happening he's suddenly made it his mission to bring back that beautiful, sunny smile of hers that always creates such a stark contrast to her dark hair and make-up.

"Want to sit on my lap and talk about the first thing that comes up?" he asks with an exaggerated wiggle of his brows, trying not to wince at the truly terrible line he'd found on the internet. From his seated position he looks up at her expectantly, hoping she'll take the bait.

She sucks in a surprised breath, but catches herself quickly. She lets her eyes drop down to his lap for a second before meeting his eyes and he's glad to see that her tell-tale challenging glint is back in full force. "Well, that'll be a short conversation, won't it?"

He bites the inside of his cheek, trying to keep from laughing. How the hell does she come up with her brutal rejections so quickly?

"Coffee and apple pie?" she asks, voice much softer now and with a hint of gratitude.

He grins and nods. "With vanilla ice cream."

"Wouldn't dare to forget about that."

 **⁂ 5 ⁂**

He randomly runs into her at a nightclub —probably the last place he'd ever expect to meet her— a few days later, Tommy hot on his heels when he stalks into her direction in long strides, ignoring all the girls throwing themselves at him on the way over.

With her gray tank top/black jacket combo, cargo pants and combat boots she sticks out like a sore thumb in this crowd of scantily dressed women, and he briefly wonders how she even got in. But damn, it's good to see her again.

As he gets closer, he realizes she looks bored out of her mind, standing by herself next to the bar, while overlooking the crowd, her eyebrows arched in a highly judgmental frown that is so very Felicity.

Her lips briefly twist into a half smile when she recognizes him, but she quickly schools her features back into one of disinterest. Aww, he knew she wasn't totally unaffected by their little encounters.

"Dude, what are we doing here? The Jones twins were totally down for some fun times," Tommy whines behind him, tugging at his arm to go back to where they abruptly left the two girls that had basically been drooling all over them.

But Oliver doesn't care, not when Felicity is about to make this horribly predictable night at a club a whole lot more entertaining.

"Can I buy you a drink?" he shouts over the thumping music, ignoring the "What the fuck, man?" from Tommy.

An amused glint runs through her eyes and he knows that he's about to be sent packing. _Again_. Damn him, if he isn't looking forward to it.

"I'd rather just take your money," she replies with a smirk that he can't help but mirror.

He shakes his head and chuckles, glad to see the smirk light up her eyes. "You don't look like you're enjoying yourself," he notes, stepping closer to let some other people past.

She shrugs. "Just waiting for my friend to stop making out with every single guy in this place, so we can go home."

"I'd offer you a ride, but I'm pretty sure you wouldn't accept," he says with a half-smile.

She tilts her head to the side. "You'd be correct." He nods and moves to leave her alone, when her small fingers wrap around his hand. "But thank you, nonetheless, Oliver. I do appreciate you looking out for me, even if I don't need it right now."

His smile widens again before he bids his goodbye. Maybe they're making progress after all.

"Who the fuck was that and why are you just giving up?" Tommy asks when they walk away, his brows drawn together in confusion at what he just witnessed. "Ollie, what the hell just happened?"

 **⁂ 6 ⁂**

Tommy insists on coming to the diner with him the next night, after Oliver told him about his colorful history with Felicity and her penchant for brushing him off with zero mercy.

Had he not been so focused on watching her walk over, Oliver would've probably realized from his friend's smug grin that he's about to do something stupid. But by the time Felicity steps up to their table it's already too late.

"Wanna hear a story about my dick? Ehh, never mind, it's too long," Tommy says lewdly, giving her his trademark, panty-dropping billion dollar smile.

Oliver glares at him, ready to punch the shit out of his best friend since childhood. The whole flirting and rebuffing shtick is _his_ thing with Felicity. How dare he steal his thunder?

One reassuring look and a little wink from Felicity are enough to settle him down, and he leans back in his seat, waiting patiently for her to shoot down Tommy's lame and inappropriate advance.

"Wanna hear a story about my pussy? Oh wait, you'll never get it," she replies with a sweet smile and promptly skips to the next table.

Tommy stares after her in wonder, eyes growing wide as saucers. "Oh my god, she's perfect," he whispers reverently. "I think I'm in love."

You're not the only one, Tommy. You're not the only one.

 **⁂ 6½ ⁂**

Oliver stays at the diner for a few more hours even after Tommy leaves, thinking he can at least try and get some studying in while he's here. Look at him being a responsible student and all that shit. Plus, he can spend some more time with Felicity.

At least that was the idea before he realizes that even at this late hour the diner is still surprisingly full, keeping Felicity far away from his table, save for the occasional coffee refill. He always keeps one eye on her throughout the night while she's busy hopping from one table to the next, taking orders and serving food and drinks.

He can actually see the relief on her tired face when people are finally starting to leave around midnight, her dark locks barely held together in her hazardous ponytail at this point.

By 1am they're finally the only ones left which is a good thing because Felicity looks dead on her feet when she trudges over to his table, two large cups of coffee and a number of textbooks in her hands.

"Rough night?" he asks with a sympathetic smile.

She sighs and plops down on the bench opposite him. "You could say that. I'm supposed to be at home, finishing up a project, but one of my colleagues called in sick and no-one else could cover the shift. And then the Celtics apparently won tonight which just reminds me of how much I hate working on home game nights. Too many drunken assholes running around the city."

"Huh, I never really liked Basketball," he muses, taking a sip of his fresh cup of joe.

She snorts, "Let me guess: football?"

"Yeah, how did you know?" he questions with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh please, you jocks are all the same. Looking all buff and chasing after all the girls."

"You think I look buff?" he asks with the biggest shit-eating grin when he sees a little color rise to her pale cheeks. "Be honest, have you secretly been checking me out, Felicity?"

"Shut up," she mumbles, trying to glare at him. "It's not my fault that you always wear shirts that are too tight."

"Oh, like this one? Wanna feel it?" he asks, tugging lightly on his admittedly pretty snug Henley. "It's made of boyfriend material."

She closes her eyes, chuckling silently before turning her eyes to him. "Really? Because it looks pretty cheap from where I'm sitting," she says with a scrunched up nose, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

He just takes the hit and shakes his head good-naturedly, happy that he could make her smile after a stressful day.

They fall into a comfortable silence for the last hour of her shift, both of them focusing on their respective books, stealing the occasional sneaky glance at each other.

When it's finally time for her to lock up for the night, she turns to him when they hit the cold night air. "Thanks for sticking around," she says, shuffling her feet a little nervously. "And for cheering me up. Apparently, I really needed a friendly face to get through the night."

He steps closer, putting one hand reassuringly on her shoulder, squeezing lightly. "It was my pleasure."

 **⁂ 7 + 8 ⁂**

Much to Oliver's chagrin, Tommy decides to accompany him to the diner again the next week in hopes of having another shot at getting Felicity to talk to him for real. He's intrigued by her and Oliver can't exactly fault him for that since he's right there with him.

At least this time he stays quiet when she comes to their table, already two cups of coffee and a plate of apple pie with vanilla ice cream in hand. Huh, maybe he's been coming here a little bit too often if she doesn't even have to take his order anymore.

"How're we doing tonight, boys?" she asks, her happy voice betraying the gloomy effect of her dark hair and clothes.

"We're good," Oliver says, before Tommy can open his filthy mouth. "How come you're so chipper?"

"Just finished that really big project for a class I told you about _and_ I've finally saved up enough money to buy a new processor for my computer. Just thinking about all the new possibilities I get from that makes me super happy," she beams at him with an expectant glint in her eyes.

"I think I could make you even happier," he drawls out with a wink, leaving no room for misinterpreting just _how_ he could make her happier.

Her lips turn up and she claps her hands together in fake enthusiasm. "Oh, why? Are you moving to another country?"

"Damn, girl, you don't pull your punches," Tommy winces on the other side of the booth. "Where have you been all my life?"

"Hiding from you," she deadpans, throwing Tommy a nasty look for interrupting their little moment, leaving him sputtering and gasping for air.

"Did you hear that, Ollie? Did you hear what she said? Please tell me she has a sister. Or a cousin? A young aunt? And why have I never realized the appeal of goths before? Are they all like this? Where can I find one?"

Oliver just chuckles quietly and hides his wide smile by raising the mug to his lips. Has he mentioned that he might be completely in love with this girl?

 **⁂ 9 + 10 ⁂**

"Hey, soooo, what are you doing on Friday?" he blurts out unceremoniously when there's a beat of silence between them.

"Not you," she retorts automatically before wincing. "Sorry, I don't seem to be able to turn it off."

He chuckles nervously, stuck between hoping that she'll just forget about his question and praying she'll realize he was being serious this time.

They've been talking for almost two hours, occupying a booth in the completely deserted diner. It had been a slow night to start with, but they've been the only two here for quite some time now. He'd been studying in a corner booth, thankful for the constant stream of fresh coffee in his mug while he was trying to cram in as much marketing knowledge as he possibly could, despite his growing headache. That's what you get for waiting until the day before the test to really start studying, kids.

Around midnight he'd given up, only then noticing that Felicity had taken up the opposite seat, immersed in her tablet. Once started, the conversation between them had flowed surprisingly freely and he'd only realized he'd kind of maybe totally asked her out when the question had already left his lips.

"Your lines are getting pretty boring, Queen," she quips, turning her attention back to her work, but not before he could see the uncertainty in her eyes, and he _knows_ that he needs to clarify his intentions. "Maybe Google can help you step up your game."

He chuckles and diligently pulls out his phone to do just that when an idea hits him. He licks his lips, trying to hide his smile. "I actually just googled the word 'sexy' and your picture came up." Okay, not a great line, but he just couldn't resist. Plus, she really is sexy as hell.

She doesn't even lift her gaze from her tablet when she sighs, "The same thing will happen if you google 'not interested'."

He falters at that. Is she really not interested?

She's never downright said 'no' to any of his cheesy pick-up lines. Sure, between the lines, in the beginning the message was kind of obvious, but since she's always delivered her rejections with a smirk or a challenging look and they've developed this easy-going thing, he's never gotten the impression that she was really not interested.

"Shit, I didn't mean that," she blurts out, making his head shoot up in surprise. "I really can't seem to turn off the snark." She drops her hand on his on the table, her darkly painted fingernails tapping lightly against his skin. "I get hit on so often here, especially when it's late and there's no-one else around and it's kind of just become second nature to reject everyone, even though my boss is not too happy when I get a little bit too sassy," she explains with a squeeze to his fingers, taking a deep breath. "I'm not _not_ interested."

He nods slowly, a relieved smile spreading across his lips, the skin on his hand tingling at the feel of her fingers, and he briefly debates whether he should ask her out now. "That's… good to know," he smiles, deciding he'll do it tomorrow.

 **⁂⁂ +1 ⁂⁂**

He's back at the diner the following night with a big bouquet of colorful wildflowers. He's not sure if she'll enjoy them since she seems to gravitate towards darker colors, but when he saw the bouquet in the little flower shop on the way over, he immediately thought of her for some reason. Maybe because she's brought so much color and joy into his life with her bubbly and snarky personality that she tries to keep hidden underneath all the darkness. Who knows?

He hides the flowers under his jacket on the seat next to him until the last patron has left and she comes over to his booth with a wide, only slightly nervous smile.

"Hey, you," she greets him, taking a surprised step back when he gets up from his seat. "Everything okay?" she asks, a little crease forming between her eyebrows.

He nods and stretches out the bouquet in front of him, holding his breath while she stares at it in shock and wonder.

"Uhh… for me?" she questions, the crease on her forehead deepening.

"Yeah," he breathes out, waiting for her to take the flowers from him. "I hope you like them. There's… uh… there's a card."

She fumbles around a little bit, freeing the little piece of paper from one of the stems, and opening it with slightly shaking fingers. She looks about as nervous as he feels.

He watches with bated breath as her eyes grow wide and then become a little misty, before darting over the words he scrawled on it again and again and again. She lifts her head, meeting his eyes and he's not sure if the little moisture he sees in hers is a good thing or not.

He takes a step towards her, coming close enough so he can cup her face with his hands.

"It's not my fault that I fell for you," he recites the words from the little piece of paper in a whisper, his thumb running softly over her cheek, "You're the one that tripped me."

Her mouth falls open and a nervous breath leaves her lips while he waits anxiously for her response. Will she reject him again? For good this time?

"This one is actually really cute," she whispers, but doesn't give him time to celebrate his victory because she quickly steps on her tiptoes, fusing their lips together in a searing kiss.

He has a feeling that it's just the first of many.

 **⁂ Bonus #1** **⁂**

She suppresses a groan when she spots Tommy entering the diner on a sunny Sunday morning. It's not that she doesn't like him. He's actually really funny most of the time and he _is_ her boyfriend's best friend, so they've spent a fair share of time together. But he can also be annoying as hell, trying to charm her pants off despite her very definite relationship status.

Plus, he's crashed so many date nights with Oliver that whenever she gets a precious night off to spend with her boyfriend, she's come to make him turn off his phone, disconnect the doorbell, close the curtains, and lock all doors and windows. Yes, windows, too, because Tommy Merlyn is a very persistent piece of work.

"Felicity, how are you this beautiful Sunday morning, my love?" he asks, charm oozing from every word, as he makes his way over to her after leading the young woman, or rather girl, to a booth that's surprisingly enough not in her section. Oh shit, is the girl even legal? She looks kind of familiar.

"Cut the crap, Merlyn," she hisses. "Please tell me that girl with you is 18, and if not, you better get the fuck away from her."

He holds up his hands defensively, clucking his tongue in dismay. "I'm deeply hurt, Smoaky. What kind of a man do you think I am?"

"The worst," she mumbles under her breath, even though she definitely can't see Tommy committing a federal crime just to get laid.

"She's 16," he concedes with a sigh, "but I can assure you that my intentions are of the purest origin."

"That would be a first."

"You're on a roll today. Are you in a bad mood? Do I need to have a talk with my best friend to make sure he knows how to keep you happy and satisfied?"

"Merlyn," she warns, gritting her teeth together. "Who is she?"

He scratches the back of his head nervously. That can't possibly be a good sign. "Look, don't be mad at Ollie for not giving you any warning, but he didn't know she was coming either."

What? Why would she be mad at Oliver? And who the hell is this girl?

"Where is he anyway? He told me he'd be here by 10."

"He took a quick detour to get you some flowers. Probably trying to appease you for his sister dropping in unannounced because she wanted to meet you," he explains with a wince.

"That's his sister?" she asks, her eyes darting over to the young brunette who's staring out the window in complete disinterest.

"Yup, little Thea, who's not so little anymore," Tommy frowns, looking back at the girl in question. "Apparently, she has a few days off from school and decided to stop by and meet her brother's new girlfriend that he can't seem to shut up about. Caught the red-eye out here and turned up at Ollie's place two hours ago."

Right on cue, the door to the diner flies open again, revealing a slightly panicked looking Oliver who is indeed holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand. Wasting no time whatsoever, he stalks over to them, grabbing Felicity's arm and dragging her into the little hallway that leads to the restrooms.

"My sister is here," he blurts out, panting heavily.

She chuckles lightly, cupping his cheek with one hand. "I know. Tommy kinda already let the cat out of the bag and explained what's going on."

He exhales loudly. "I'm sorry. I didn't know she was coming. This is not how I wanted you two to meet."

"It's alright. My shift is only another hour, after that I can join the three of you. If you want me to, that is," she assures him.

"Of course, I want you to meet her," he breathes out. "I just thought I'd get to warn you and prepare you. She's… a whirlwind."

"We'll make it work. Now can you please give your girlfriend a proper hello before she has to get back to work?" she teases, stepping closer.

"Mhhh," he hums, pulling her into a tight hug, pressing her body against his. "Hello, girlfriend," he whispers before dipping down and catching her mouth in a hot kiss that leaves her breathless when they come up for air.

It's her turn to hum when she feels something hard pressing into her belly. "Is that your phone or are you really happy to see me, Mr. Queen," she quips, already knowing the answer.

He chuckles lightly, bringing his lips to her ear, nipping at her earlobe playfully. "We both know that my dick is a whole lot bigger than that."

She swallows down her reply when she hears the chef call her name from the kitchen to inform her that her orders are ready. So instead of continuing their banter, she sighs and leans up for one last kiss, leaving him with a teasing, "I might need a reminder very soon."

While retreating to the main room, she can hear Oliver groan behind her, "You're absolutely killing me, Felicity."

She doesn't even make it ten steps before she runs into Tommy, who's still lingering around the counter.

He smiles widely at her, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "You know, Smoaky, I'd totally understand if you wanted to dump Ollie after this whole debacle," he says matter-of-factly, faking a sympathetic sigh. "And if we're being honest with each other, we both know that you were only with him because you were too shy to admit that you want _me_."

"You're so right, Tommy. I want you…" she whimpers dramatically, before sobering, rolling her eyes and deadpanning, "to leave me alone so I can finish my shift."

Tommy gasps in shock, a hand flying to his chest. "You just broke my heart into a million pieces. I hope you're proud of yourself."

She purses her lips in contemplation. "I am, actually," she muses, winking at Oliver who watched their exchange with barely contained laughter, before skipping behind the counter with a triumphant smirk.

 **⁂ Bonus #2 ⁂**

The breakfast goes… well? Felicity's not totally sure. As soon as her shift had ended, she'd joined the three in their booth while they were finishing up their meals.

Thea had looked thoroughly surprised when her brother had introduced Felicity as his girlfriend of a couple of months, but had seemingly shrugged it off, smiling pleasantly and making polite small talk. Oliver had relaxed visibly, disentangling their hands and throwing an arm around her.

So in turn, she'd relaxed her stiff posture, leaning into his touch. With the occasional sip from her coffee, she'd watched in fascination as the other three had a quick-witted conversation, playing off each other with total ease. For someone who grew up without siblings, and without too many friends, for that matter, it was absolutely fascinating to watch that familiar dynamic unfold right in front of her eyes.

After everybody had finished their food and drinks, they'd decided to go for a walk in the nearby park.

While Tommy and Oliver are still inside settling the check, Thea and Felicity step outside into the cool but sunny Boston weather.

"So you're definitely not what I expected when Ollie told me he had a new girlfriend," the younger woman cuts straight to the chase as they hit the boardwalk. "You're not even remotely his usual type."

"Mhh," Felicity hums. "I'm not sure whether that's meant to be a compliment or an insult."

"Neither," Thea says with a lazy shrug. "Just an observation."

"Right," Felicity mumbles, turning on the spot to see why the boys are taking so long.

"How did you two meet anyway? You don't look like the typical fratboy-party goer."

She bites back a snarky comment about the younger girl's stereotyping ways, turning back to her with a forced smile. "We met here at the diner, actually."

Thea is about to say something else when a blond guy in a leather jacket comes up to them, fixing them with what he probably thinks is a charming smile (it's not). "Ladies, couldn't help but notice you standing over here all by yourself." He lets his eyes flicker up and down Thea's body, and Felicity feels a surge of protectiveness over her boyfriend's sister, who's clearly not happy with the attention she's getting.

The guy is chewing loudly on his chewing gum, while Thea squirms uncomfortably under his probing gaze. "Hey there, sexy. Your face must turn a lot of heads," he leers at her.

Felicity steps forward, right into his line of sight, putting herself in front of Thea. "And yours must turn a lot of stomachs, so why don't you just leave before we both get sick?" she retorts, staring him down defiantly.

"Nobody asked for your opinion, you little emo whore," he bites out, previous smirk wiped off his face as he steps closer, but she stands her ground, squaring her shoulders. "Maybe you need to be taught a lesson or two to remind you where your place is. Why don't you start by getting down on your knees and sucking my-"

"I'd think twice about finishing that sentence," Oliver's voice suddenly sounds from the side, dangerously low. "Now walk away before I break every bone in your pathetic body."

Felicity swallows hard, her eyes focusing on Oliver. His body is completely tense, hands balled into tight fists at his side, making his biceps bulge out more than usual. His jaw is clenched, eyes boring into the other guy with so much hatred that she briefly doesn't recognize him.

The slimy blond is about to say something else when Tommy appears on Oliver's side, face uncharacteristically hard and humorless. "I'd listen to him. He doesn't mess around when it comes to the people he loves."

With one last disdainful look the guy turns around, but not before muttering, "Whatever. Bitches probably aren't worth the trouble anyway."

"What a dick," Thea spews when he's out of earshot. She gives Felicity a long appraising look and a solemn nod before turning to her brother. "Never thought I'd say this about any of your girlfriends, but I like her, Ollie. Don't screw it up."

 **⁂ Bonus #3 ⁂**

Four months into their relationship, he _really_ fucks up for the first time. After completely butchering an important presentation for one of his classes that can potentially cost him his degree —or at least set him back for a year until he can repeat the class— he ditches his phone, grabs Tommy and gets on the next flight to Vegas for a weekend of epic partying.

He only realizes what he's done when he wakes up with a massive hangover after two days of drinking; discovering to his complete horror that thanks to his nonstop partying he's completely missed Valentine's Day.

Not just any Valentine's Day, but his first one with Felicity. It had taken him a solid month of convincing, almost begging, her to actually take a night off and go out with him on what she disdainfully calls the 'stupidest, most superfluous "holiday" in existence', and now he completely stood her up because he'd been an idiot and fallen back into old habits.

 _Shit, I'm so screwed_ , is all he can think on the flight back to Boston, while trying to formulate a plan to get back in his girlfriend's good graces.

A quick chat with her roommate at her dorm tells him that she went to her favorite bar in Cambridge. Heading there straight away, he uses the time in the cab to straighten his rumpled clothes and messy hair. He'd grabbed a quick shower before his flight, but he hasn't shaved in almost three days, combined with copious amounts of alcohol and little to no sleep, he knows he looks like shit. So, pretty much exactly like he feels.

He spots her immediately at the bar, her dark hair hard to miss in a sea of blondes and brunettes. She's downing a shot, slamming the glass down on the counter, while studiously ignoring a guy who's incessantly talking at her from the side.

Gritting his teeth, Oliver swallows down the surge of jealousy and makes his way over to her. "Felicity?" he tries cautiously, but she only stiffens in response, not turning to him. "Can we get out of here and talk? I want to explain what happened," he pleads.

She fakes a sneeze, the sudden sound startling him. "Sorry, I'm allergic to bullshit," she says, never lifting her gaze from the beer in front of her.

Damn it!

"I'm sorry, Felicity," he whispers, stepping closer. "I shouldn't have left."

She turns to him then, eyes narrowed, her lips pressed into a tight line. "I'm so disappointed in you."

"I know. I'm so sorry."

She shakes her head dismissively and he braces himself for what's to come. "I can't believe you went to Vegas with Tommy and didn't even think about bringing me along," she fumes. "I've been itching to play some Blackjack and would've gladly forgone this stupid ass Valentine's Day weekend, but noooooo, you had me almost excited for our date plans. And then you stood me up to spend an epic weekend in Vegas with your best friend," she accuses him, her fingers digging into his chest to the point of pain. "Did you at least get me a souvenir?"

He gapes at her for a solid ten seconds, her reaction not anything like he could've imagined.

"So you're _not_ mad?" he asks cautiously.

"Oh, I'm mad. _Very_ mad, Mister." Another jab to his chest. "You'll have to dig deep into your bad lines repertoire to find a way out of this one."

"I love you," he blurts out, saying the three precious words neither of them has had the guts to say yet. They've been implied more than a few times from both sides, but neither has come straight out to say them… until now.

A surprised breath leaves her lungs in, her hand fisting his shirt in shock. "What?" she stutters. "That's… that's not a pick-up line."

His lips lift up into a smile. "No, it's a fact." And it really is. For the first time in his life he knows the true meaning of those three words. "I love you, Felicity," he says slowly, confidence and sincerity dripping from every syllable as he closes the distance. "I'm so in love with you."

Kissing her, more than anything else, feels like finally being complete again. Truth be told, he'd already planned on telling her how he feels this weekend on the date he'd so carefully planned and it definitely didn't include telling her in a seedy bar, surrounded by a hundred drunken students while he's fearing for the status of his relationship, but oh well. When life gives you lemons…

Woah," she breathes out and he can feel her mischievous smile against his lips, "was there an earthquake or did you just rock my world?"

He guffaws, head falling back in a loud, belly deep laugh. "Did you just use a cheesy pick-up line on me, Ms. Smoak? Are you trying to get into my pants?" he asks, feigning shock.

Felicity snorts and raises an eyebrow. "Like I need to _try_ to get into your pants. I believe you've extended an open invitation to me."

"Touché. I want you in my pants anytime." He swoops down, capturing her lips in another sweet kiss, before pressing their foreheads together.

"Hey, Oliver?" she grabs his attention. "I love you, too," she whispers softly. "But we'll still need to talk about this weekend."

"We will. _After_ we celebrate." He smiles down at her, pecking her lips softly and pulling her into a tight hug.

"You know, I've heard that sex burns up to 100 calories," she mumbles against his chest, while her hand runs down his abs until her nimble fingers grip his belt and pull him even closer. "Wanna work out?"

Oliver promptly turns toward the barkeeper, never breaking her embrace. "Check, please!"

 **⁂ Bonus #4 ⁂**

They've been together for almost seven months when they're finally only weeks away from their respective graduations. They've had their ups and downs like every other couple. Felicity often struggling with accepting that she really does fit into Oliver's completely different lifestyle, and Oliver struggling with reconciling his past with his dictated future at his family's company.

He's relaxing on his couch, waiting for Felicity to stop by his place after a morning spent shopping with some of her friends. Looking up when the door opens he actually does a double take, his brain not understanding what he's seeing.

Her hair is blonde. Her formerly black and purple hair is fucking _blonde_.

He's up in an instant, closing the distance between them in a few long strides. "What happened to your hair?"

"I dyed it," she says matter-of-factly, playful smile on her lips.

"I can see that, smartass," he grumbles. "But why? You loved your black hair." I did, too.

She just shrugs, her head tilting to the side. "It was time."

"Not because of me, I hope. You _know_ I always loved your hair," he assures her, pulling her into the kitchen where the light is a little better, so he can admire her new hair in all its glory. "I know my parents didn't seem super thrilled when you met them last month, but they're just a little stuck-up. They would've come around eventually."

"I know that," she tells him in a soft voice. "I did this for me. Initially, dying it and going all dark was my way of rebelling and trying to get as far away from who I was when I was growing up. I wanted to be nothing like my mom and distance myself as much as possible from the shy, constantly bullied girl that I was in school. And then when I got here it had the added effect that a lot of guys were put off by the whole dark goth thing and left me alone, which was a good thing, too, because, as you know, I was underage for almost half of my time here." She sighs, nodding her head contently. "I've changed a lot in the past years and that dark, broody person isn't me anymore. It just feels _right_ to make this change now when we're about to start this new chapter of our lives in Starling City."

He nods understandingly, his fingers curling in her freshly colored locks, still marveling at the change. "You kinda look like an angel now."

She snorts lightly, but leans into his touch. "I swear if you ask if it hurt when I fell from heaven, I'll punch you in the face."

He smirks down at her. "Good to know the sass is still very much there."

"Like I'll ever be able to turn that off."

He's pressing his lips together, debating if he should still go for the terrible pick-up line despite her threat.

"Don't do it or you'll suffer the consequences," she warns him, pointing her index finger at him playfully, but he ignores her, not wanting to waste this perfect opportunity.

"Would you hold my hand, so I can tell my friends I was touched by an angel?" he asks with a charming smile and mischievous eyes.

She stares at him, pursing her lips in dismay, her new blonde hair and almost make-up free face making the action look even cuter than usual. Narrowing her eyes at him, a slow smile spreads on her lips and he _knows_ he's in trouble. A big part of him can't wait to hear what she comes up with.

With careful precision she closes the gap between them, her knuckles gently tapping against his cheek in a mock punch, before she throws him a sweet smile.

"What? No snarky comeback, Ms. Smoak," he challenges her, knowing he's just digging a deeper hole.

"Well, Mr. Queen, I have other tricks up my sleeve now," she whispers, grinding her body enticingly against his. "Just for being so cheeky I think you've earned yourself a week without sex," she declares, batting her eyes innocently at him.

"What?" he splutters, but she's already walking away from him, swinging her hips more than usual. "Felicity? Baby!" he yells after her, even when the door to his bedroom falls shut behind her. "You're joking, right? _Right_? …. Felicity? … We're still gonna have sex, right? … Felicity!"

When there's no answer he runs a frustrated hand through his hair. "I take it back," he declares decidedly, stalking towards the door. "You're most definitely _not_ an angel. You're the freaking devil."

 **⁂ The End ⁂**


End file.
